


Dessert

by silentdescant



Series: Snapshots [7]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Breathplay, Collars, Deepthroating, Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Kink, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 12:13:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8207296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: It pains Scott to act normal with Mitch on his knees under the table. He can’t see Mitch at all, he’s hidden by the tablecloth.





	

**Author's Note:**

> KINKtober Day 3: Public

It pains Scott to act normal with Mitch on his knees under the table. He can’t see Mitch at all, he’s hidden by the tablecloth, but Scott's hand wanders and explores of its own volition. He rubs his palm across Mitch’s scalp, petting the buzzed hair. He digs his thumb into the soft part of Mitch’s cheek to feel the hard length of his cock in Mitch’s mouth.

All the while, waiters and other patrons chat and walk around and generally make Scott’s life a little too stressful.

Their waitress returns and fills Scott’s water glass. He thanks her and gulps down half of it at once.

Mitch doesn’t make a single noise, he’s too practiced, too obedient to slip up that way, but to Scott, the wet sounds of Mitch trying to swallow around him are deafening. He’s absolutely sure they’ll be noticed.

After a moment, Mitch pulls off. Scott can hear him breathing hard and trying to control it. He slides his hand over Mitch’s head again, comforting and demanding at once, and pulls him back in. Mitch goes down without complaint, burying his face between Scott’s legs. His throat flutters and tightens around Scott’s cock and Scott has to grip the edge of the table with his free hand to keep himself quiet.

He chokes on his breath, he’s so close to coming, and the hand on Mitch’s head drops down to the band of leather around his neck. He blindly finds one of the metal rings and hooks his finger into it, twists his hand so the collar tightens around Mitch’s throat.

Mitch rests a hand on Scott’s knee, the first he’s touched Scott since unzipping his fly. Scott blinks hard, schooling his face into something he hopes is neutral enough to keep from making a scene, and focuses on the curl of Mitch’s fingers.

Every so often Mitch digs in, just slightly, and Scott pulls the collar, lifting Mitch up off his cock. Just long enough to regain his breath. Mitch never wastes time before sinking back down again, enveloping Scott in that glorious wet heat.

Scott sees their waitress heading over again and bites back a groan. He lets go of Mitch’s collar and lets him up for a second, just while Scott’s talking to the girl. Mitch keeps his lips sealed around the head of Scott’s cock, but he’s content to wait there, quiet and still.

“Everything alright, sir?” she asks.

“Great, thanks,” Scott replies tersely. “Could I have the check, please?”

“I can’t tempt you with dessert?”

“You really can’t.” Mitch pinches his thigh and Scott barely refrains from yelping in surprise. “Actually,” he says in a strangled voice, “my date will want to see the dessert menu.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll get it for you.”

As soon as she’s safely away from the table, Scott shoves his hand into the collar of Mitch’s shirt and scrapes his fingernails across Mitch’s back. He hears Mitch suck in a harsh breath through his nose.

“You only get dessert if you finish me off before she comes back,” he mutters. “Get to work. And you’d better swallow every fuckin’ drop.”

Mitch responds with a moan quiet enough that Scott can’t even hear it. He feels the vibration of it as Mitch sinks down once again. He sucks hard and presses himself close, laving the flat of his tongue against Scott’s cock.

Scott tucks two fingers into Mitch’s collar. He can’t be bothered to find the metal ring again. As he pulls gently, Mitch slides down, taking Scott deeper. Scott can feel Mitch’s pulse racing against his fingertips.

He comes with a bitten-off gasp and Mitch swallows every fucking drop, just as instructed. It feels like Scott’s head is going to explode from the effort of keeping his reactions subtle and unnoticed. He wants nothing more than to moan, to shout, to pant until the lightheadedness fades, but he can’t.

The waitress returns with the dessert menu, and while her gaze lingers a little longer than necessary on Scott’s red face, she doesn’t say anything. She glances at Mitch’s empty seat and says, “I’ll let you look it over and come back in a few minutes.”

“Thank you.”

And then she’s gone again and Scott can allow his chest to heave. Just for a moment.

He feels Mitch waiting, silent and still with his cheek resting on Scott’s thigh. Scott strokes his thumb over Mitch’s pliant, wet lips.

“She’s gone,” he murmurs. “Come up now. Be quick about it.”

Mitch tucks Scott back into his pants and does up the fly before melting into the void beneath the table. It’s another few seconds before he makes his appearance. He comes up all at once, not there and then suddenly there, standing beside the table, taking his seat and retrieving his napkin. He dabs his mouth and waits for Scott’s nod to confirm he’s cleaned up. His mouth is a little red, his cheeks slightly flushed, but he’s so very good at this, he somehow looks completely normal.

“Do I get a treat?” he asks.

Scott pushes the dessert menu across the table to him and Mitch grins delightedly.

“You deserve something sweet,” Scott replies. “Well done.”

 

 _fin_.


End file.
